FOOTNOTES:
[17] The following telegram, selected at random from the files of September 1st, indicates the extraordinary mixture of units which the enemy had collected to defend this vital point:
"To Australian Corps Intelligence from 2nd Division—sent September 1st at 7 p.m. Identifications from prisoners examined since noon: 28th R.I.R.; 65th I.R.; 161st I.R.; 94th I.R.; 95th I.R.; 96th I.R.; Alexander Regt.; Augusta Regt.; 4th Bav. I.R.; 8th Bav. I.R.; 25th Bav. I.R.; 447th I.R.; 2nd G. Guard F.A.R.; 221st F.A.R.; 2nd Co. M.G. Corps; 67th Pioneer Co.; 3rd Army Troops; 102nd Pioneer Bn. of 2nd Guards Div.; 402nd M.W.Co.; 185th R.I.R. A pioneer of the 23rd Co. has been retained for 5th Aust. Div. to remove charges from bridges not yet blown. Prisoner 96th I.R. says Regt. came up for counter-attack night 31-1 to retake Mt. St. Quentin, but counter-attack did not come off, owing to attack expected from us. All prisoners interrogated agree that line was to be held at all costs. Regiments are now considerably intermingled and disorganized."
(Note.—I.R.—Infanterie Regiment; R.I.R.—Reserve Infanterie Regiment; M.W.Co.—Minenwerfer Compagnie; Bav.—Bavarian.)
[18] Mr. Hughes, the Commonwealth Prime Minister, visited the battlefield of Mont St. Quentin, with a distinguished company, on September 14th. The officer in question, standing near the summit of the hill, was about to relate his experiences, and this was his preamble.
CHAPTER XII
A LULL
During the closing days of August events had commenced to move rapidly; for the offensive activities initiated by the Fourth Army, three weeks earlier, began to spread in both directions along the Allied front.
The Third British Army had entered the fray on August 21st; the First British Army was ready with its offensive on August 26th, on which date the Canadian Corps, restored to its old familiar battleground, delivered a great attack opposite Arras.
The French, who, on my right flank, had along their front followed up the enemy retirement begun after the battle of Chuignes, reached Roye on August 27th, and Noyon on August 28th. Their line, however, still bore back south-westerly from the vicinity of the river near Brie and St. Christ.
By August 29th the line of the First Army had reached and passed Bapaume, and that of the Third Army cut through Combles. The Third Corps, on my immediate left, had made good its advance as far as Maurepas.
Thus, the thrust of the Australian Corps beyond the Canal du Nord, on August 31st to September 3rd, formed the spearhead which pierced the Somme line, and the Corps was still leading the advance both of the French and the British.
From the morning of September 4th the evidences of the enemy's resolution to withdraw to the Hindenburg Line became hourly more unmistakable. His Artillery fire died down considerably, particularly that from his long range and high velocity guns. These were probably already on the move to the rear, in order to clear the roads for his lighter traffic.
The Hindenburg Line Wire—near Bony.
The 15-inch Naval Gun—captured at Chuignes, August 23rd, 1918.
The high ground near Biaches (west of Péronne) provided a vantage point from which an extensive view of the whole country could be obtained. There lay before us, beyond the Somme, a belt about eight miles deep, which had scarcely suffered at all from the ravages of the previous years of war.
It was gently undulating country, liberally watered, and heavily wooded, especially in the minor valleys, in which snuggled numerous villages still almost intact and habitable, although, of course, entirely deserted by the civilian population.
Beyond this agreeable region there began again an area of devastation, which grew in awful thoroughness as the great Hindenburg Line was approached some six miles further on. For, through the autumn and winter of 1917, and up to the moment of the German offensive in March, 1918, it was there that the British Fifth Army had faced the enemy in intensive trench fighting.
In all directions over this still habitable belt there were now signs of unusual life and activity. Columns of smoke began to rise in the direction of all the villages. Sounds of great explosions rent the air. These were sure indications that the enemy was burning the stores which he could not hope to salve, and was destroying his ammunition dumps lest they should fall into our hands.
A vigorous pursuit was now the policy most to be desired. But my troops in the line were very tired from the exertions of a great struggle, and many of the units, by reason of their battle losses, required time to reorganize and refit. It was also essential that no rapid advance should be attempted until the arrangements for supply, depending upon the completion of the Somme crossings, had been assured.
The general line of advance of the Corps had, during August, been in a due easterly direction. The operations about Péronne had necessitated a drive north-easterly, and the advance of my Third Division up the Bouchavesnes spur had carried them square across the line of advance of the Third Corps.
The first step was to restore our original Corps boundaries, and to resume the original line of advance. By arrangement with General Godley, his 74th Division took over the ground captured by my Third Division, which was thereby released and enabled to concentrate, for a couple of days' rest, in the Cléry region. The Second Division employed its 7th Brigade on September 2nd and 3rd to advance our line beyond Haut Allaines, another two miles east of Mont St. Quentin, routing from the trenches of that spur the strong rearguards which the enemy had posted for the purpose of delaying us.
On the night of September 4th the 74th Division took over the Haut Allaines spur also, thereby releasing my Second Division, and the latter was withdrawn to the Cappy area for a thorough and well-deserved rest.
Meanwhile, the 32nd Imperial Division, availing itself of the temporary crossings which had hastily been effected over the Somme, brought its front up, on the eastern bank of the river, level with the line which had by September 4th been reached by the Fifth Australian Division.
On September 5th, therefore, I had, east of the Somme, two Divisions in the line, the 32nd on the right or south, the Fifth Australian on the left or north, each operating on a frontage of two Brigades, with one Brigade in reserve. This was, however, quite a temporary arrangement, devised merely to allow time for the Third Division to reorganize and resume its place in the front line of the general advance.
The general withdrawal of the enemy, over a very wide front, now began to effect a very substantial reduction of the length of frontage which he had to defend. The enemy communiqués and wireless propaganda of that time busied themselves with the explanation that the withdrawals in progress were being deliberately carried out for the very purpose of releasing forces from the line to form a great strategic reserve.
These protestations did not deceive us, nor did we on our part fail also to take full advantage of the steady shortenings of the Allied front. Marshal Foch decided once again to readjust the international boundary, and my own front was thereby considerably shortened. The French took over from the 32nd Division all ground south of the main Amiens—St. Quentin road; and that road henceforth became my southern boundary.
This, coupled with the readjustment of the northern boundary with the Third Corps, as already narrated, reduced the total frontage for which I remained responsible to about ten thousand yards, an extent which was never again exceeded. It was still, however, in my judgment, too long a frontage for an effective pursuit by only two Divisions, and arrangements were initiated on the same day to bring back the Third Division into line.
During September 5th I advanced my front to the line Athies—Le Mesnil—Doingt—Bussu. Severe fighting took place near Doingt. Opposition came mainly from machine guns; but isolated field-guns also gave us trouble. We captured that day about a hundred and fifty prisoners.
Next day my Third Division came into the line on the north. I divided my frontage equally between the three Divisions, placing each on a single Brigade front. This was, in fact, a repetition of the order of battle which had carried us so successfully and rapidly up to the Somme.
Each front line Brigade took up the rôle of Advanced Guard to its Division. The 11th Brigade led the Third Division; the 8th Brigade led the Fifth Division, while the 97th Brigade covered the 32nd Imperial Division.
For the first time in the war I found an opportunity of employing my Corps Cavalry (13th Australian Light Horse) on other than their habitual duty of carrying despatches, or providing mounted escorts to convoys of prisoners of war. Here at last was a chance for bold mounted tactics, as the county was mainly open and free of wire and trenches.
To each Division I therefore allotted a squadron of Light Horse for vanguard duty, together with detachments of the Australian Cyclist Battalion. These troops more than justified their employment by bold, forward reconnaissance, and energetic pressure upon the enemy rearguards.
So promising, indeed, was the prospect of the useful employment of cavalry, that I prevailed upon the Army Commander to endeavour to secure for my use a whole Cavalry Brigade. Brigadier-General Neil Haig (cousin of the Field Marshal) was actually sent for and placed under my orders. I duly arranged a plan of action with him, but before the 1st Cavalry Brigade, stationed many miles away, had completed its long march into my area, the situation had already changed, and the employment of Cavalry on the Fourth Army front had to be postponed until a much later date.
A juncture had arrived when it became imperative for me to consider the possibility of affording some relief to the three line Divisions; all of them had been fighting without respite since August 27th. The troops were so tired from want of sleep and physical strain that many of them could be seen by the roadside, fast asleep. These three Divisions had almost reached the limits of their endurance.
It was essential, however, that they should be called upon to yield up the last particle of effort of which they were capable. Every mile by which they could approach nearer to the Hindenburg defences meant a saving of effort on the part of the fresh waiting Divisions, whom I had earmarked for the first stage of our contemplated assault upon that formidable system; a system which I knew to be too deep to be overwhelmed in a single operation.
It was for this reason that I was compelled to disregard the evident signs of overstrain which were brought to my notice by the Divisional Generals and their Brigadiers, and which were patent to my own observation of the condition of the troops. I arranged, however, two measures of immediate relief, the first being to set a definite limit of time for the further demands to be made upon the line Divisions. This was fixed for September 10th. The second was to issue orders that the rate of our further advance was to be controlled by consideration for the well-being of our own troops, and not by the rate of the enemy's retreat. If, in consequence, any gap should eventuate, touch with the enemy was to be kept by the mounted troops and cyclists.
The preliminary steps for effecting the reliefs thus promised for September 10th were begun on September 5th. The Corps was, as stated, on a three Division front. I had only two fit Divisions in Corps Reserve (i.e., the First and Fourth), the Second Division being not yet rested. My representations to the Army Commander on this matter bore immediate fruit; for he placed under my orders the Sixth (Imperial) Division (one of the first seven Divisions of the original Expeditionary Force). Before, however, I could take advantage of this windfall, the constitution of the Fourth Army underwent a vital alteration, of which more will be told later.
The First and Fourth Divisions had been resting since August 26th. They had had time to reorganize their units, to reclothe and refit their troops, to receive and absorb reinforcements, and to fill vacancies among leaders. Staffs had been able to deal with a mass of arrears. The men had enjoyed a pleasant holiday in the now peaceful Somme Valley, far in rear, a holiday devoted to games and aquatic sports. Horse and man, alike, were refreshed, and had been inspired by the continued successes of the remainder of the Corps.
They were however, by now, far in rear; and it was out of the question to tax their restored energies by calling upon them to march back to the battle zone. The Fourth Army, as always, extended its sympathetic help; two motor bus convoys, each capable of dealing with a Brigade group a day, were speedily materialized from the resources of G.H.Q.
The completion of the moves of these two Divisions from the back area to within easy marching distance of the battle front therefore occupied three days. The use of mechanical transport for the execution of troop movements has now entirely passed the experimental stage, and in future wars, calculations of time and space will be vitally affected, whenever an ample supply of lorries or buses and suitable roads are available for the rapid concentration or dispersal of large bodies of troops.
The Australian soldier is individually philosophic and stoical, but in the mass he is sensitive to a degree; and he is intelligent enough to realize how he is used or misused. It was the subject of complaint among the troops during the earlier years of the war, that while they were indulgently carried by lorries into the battle at a time when they were fresh and fit, they were invariably left to march long distances, out of the battle, when they were on the verge of exhaustion. I therefore tried, whenever possible, to provide tired troops with the means of transport to their rest areas, a facility which was always highly appreciated by them.
By the time the First and Fourth Divisions had thus been assembled in the forward areas, ready to relieve the Third and Fifth Divisions, these latter, together with the 32nd Division, had advanced our front approximately to the line Vermand—Vendelles—Hesbecourt, carrying it to within three miles of the front line of the Hindenburg defence system.
There can be no doubt, however, that the rate of our advance, retarded as it had been for the reasons already explained, had proceeded much more rapidly than suited the enemy.
A steady stream of prisoners kept pouring in, captured in twos and threes, all along my front, by my energetic patrols. Numerous machine guns were taken; and in the vicinity of Roisel, fully three hundred transport vehicles and much engineering material were captured, which the enemy had been compelled to abandon in haste.
At this juncture the British High Command arrived at the important decision to enlarge the Fourth Army, by adding another Corps; doubtless contemplating the possibility of operations on a large scale against the Hindenburg defences in the near future.
A new Corps Headquarters, the Ninth, was to be reconstituted under Lieut.-General Braithwaite, and he was to become my neighbour on my southern flank, interposed between me and the French. Braithwaite had been Chief of Staff to Sir Ian Hamilton during the Dardanelles Expedition, and I had seen much of him there. I was to have the advantage, therefore, of having old Gallipoli comrades on either flank, Braithwaite on the south, and Godley on the north.
The immediate result of this decision, which came into effect early on September 12th, was that the 32nd Division, which had been under my orders for nearly four weeks, passed over to the Ninth Corps. Lambert, his Staff and his Division had served me well and efficiently, and I was sorry to lose them out of my Corps.
With the impending further shortening of my front, I had no justification for pressing to be permitted to retain this Division. On the contrary, my representations to General Rawlinson had always been in favour of shortening my frontage to the effective battle standard of August 8th, so that the Corps might at any time be in a position to embark on a major operation, with its whole resources in Artillery and Infantry concentrated, as on that occasion, upon a relatively narrow objective. My greatly extended front, and the direct control of the affairs of six separate Divisions, had been a heavy burden, involving great and manifold responsibilities.
According to my promises to the remaining two line Divisions, the Fifth and Third, these were duly relieved on September 10th by the First and Fourth Divisions, the former on the north, the latter on the south. Each Division had a frontage of about four thousand yards, but this was to diminish rapidly, if the advance of the Corps continued, by reason of the fact that my southern boundary now became the Omignon River, whose course ran obliquely from the north-east.
While all these changes in dispositions were being effected, there was breathing time to give attention to a heavy mass of arrears of work; for there could be no question of undertaking an attack on the Hindenburg defences without most careful and exhaustive preparation.
For this the time was not yet ripe. It would still take some days to bring forward the remainder of my heaviest Artillery, to advance the railheads, to replenish the ammunition depots and supply dumps, and to re-establish telegraph and telephone communications.
Another good reason for a more leisurely policy on the front of the Fourth Army lay in the events on other portions of the Allied fronts. By September 4th the German withdrawal had become general on all fronts.
It had become clear that the enemy's retirement to his former position of March, 1918, was not to be confined to those fronts on which he had been receiving such punishment. All evidence pointed to the fact that his present strategy was to take up as speedily as possible a strong defensive attitude, behind the great system of field works, which had already served him so well during 1917, at a time when a considerable proportion of his military resources was still involved on the Russian and Roumanian fronts.
His retirement before the First and Third British Armies was proceeding methodically, and on September 5th the French were crossing the Vesle, between Rheims and Soissons. All was going well; and those in the confidence of our High Command knew that, on any day now, news might be expected of the first great attack to be made by the American Army, to be directed against the St. Mihiel Salient on the Alsace front.
This latter attack actually opened on September 11th, and it was clearly sound military policy to wait for a few days, in order correctly to diagnose the effect of these operations upon the enemy's distribution of forces.
Information as to the locations and movements of all the enemy Divisions was in these days voluminous, accurate and speedy. Prisoners and documents were daily falling into the hands of the Allies over the whole length of the Western Front. His Divisions in the front line were identified daily by actual contact. As to those resting or refitting or in reserve, accurate deductions could be made from the mass of information at our disposal.
It was at this time that it began to be made clear to us that the enemy's mobile reserves had been almost completely absorbed into the front line. One Division after another, particularly among those which had been engaged against the Australian Corps in August, was being disbanded. Among these were the 109th, 225th, 233rd, 54th Reserve, and 14th Bavarian Divisions.
The strength of the enemy's remaining Divisions was also rapidly diminishing. From prisoners we learned that many Battalions now had only three Companies instead of four, many Regiments only two Battalions instead of three, and even the Company strengths were at a low ebb.
We could well afford to approach the immediate future with greater deliberation.
Since August 8th, the Corps front had already advanced twenty-five miles, and it was not long before I had to abandon the luxurious château of the Marquis de Clermont-Tonnere, at Bertangles, whose spacious halls and spreading parks had formed so pleasant a habitation for the whole of my Corps Headquarters.
The scale of comfort possible for all senior Commanders and Staffs rapidly declined as the advance developed. Generals of Corps, Divisions and Brigades had to be content with living and office quarters in a steadily descending gradation of convenience. From château to humbler dwelling house, and thence into bare wooden huts, and later still into mere holes hollowed out in the sides of quarries or railway cuttings, were the stages of progress in this downward scale.
My Headquarters moved from Bertangles to a group of village houses at Glisy on August 13th; thence on August 31st to Méricourt, where the best had to be made of a derelict, much battered and almost roofless château, which the Germans had rifled of every stick of furniture, and even of all doors and windows, in order to equip a large collection of dug-outs in a neighbouring hill-side.
Again on September 8th I moved into the very centre of the devastated area lying in the Somme bend, on to a small rise near Assevillers, where a number of tiny wooden huts served us as bedrooms by night and offices by day. Only one hut, more pretentiously brick-walled and evidently built for the use of some German officer of high rank, was available to fulfil the duties of hospitality.
In spite of such discomforts, the daily life at Corps Headquarters flowed on uninterruptedly in its several quite distinct activities. On the one hand, there was the grim business of fighting, the detailed conduct of the battle of to-day, the troop and artillery movements for that of to-morrow, the planning of the one to be undertaken still later; rounds of conferences and consultations; visits to Divisions and Brigades, and to Artillery; reconnaissances to the forward zone; and an intent and ceaseless study of maps and Intelligence summaries.
Hourly contact with Headquarters of Fourth Army and of flank Corps had to be maintained. Then, following the day's strenuous activities out of doors, there was at nights a never-diminishing mass of administrative work, disciplinary questions, honours, awards, appointments, promotions, and a formidable correspondence which must not be allowed to fall into arrear.
Again, in the back areas there were the unemployed Divisions of the Corps, who must be regularly visited, both at training and at play. There were medals and ribbons to be distributed to the gallant winners; addresses to be delivered; and the work of reorganizing and refitting the resting units to be supervised. Still further in rear, demonstrations of new experiments in tactics or in weapons, or in mechanical warfare, had frequently to be attended, for study and criticism.
And lastly there was the social life of the Corps; for its performances were beginning to attract attention beyond the limited, if select, circles of the Fourth Army. A steady stream of visitors began to set in. It was a necessary burden that suitable arrangements for their reception and entertainment had to be maintained.
The duties of hospitality had been simple at a time when Corps Headquarters was still housed in palatial châteaux, situated in country hitherto untouched by the war, and within easy reach of all supplies. It was a very different matter to offer even reasonable comfort to a visitor at a time when Government rations constituted the backbone of our fare, when there were only bare floors to sleep upon for those who were not fortunate enough to possess a camp bed or valise, and when even an extra blanket or pillow or towel was at a premium.
Yet we were always most glad to see visitors, and those of them who were soldiers had, of course, a full understanding of our limitations. It was not always so with others who, in the earlier years of the war, when all Corps had a fixed location and had achieved a high standard of domestic comfort, had been accustomed to an adequate reception.
Upon the whole, our guests were indulgent, and understood that the stress of current events placed a very strict limit upon the amount of time that the members of my Staff or I could devote to them.
Map F
Among many other distinguished men whom I had the honour to receive were members of the War Cabinet, such as Lord Milner, then Secretary of State for War, and Mr. Winston Churchill, the Minister of Munitions; public men, such as Sir Horace Plunkett and Robert Blatchford; eminent authors, such as Sir Conan Doyle, Sir Gilbert Parker and Ian Hay; famous artists, such as Louis Raemakers, Streeton and Longstaff; celebrated journalists, like Viscount Burnham, Thomas Marlowe and Cope Cornford; together with many representatives of the Royal Navy, and of the armies of our Allies, and Attachés from all the Allied Embassies.
The Commander-in-Chief, Field Marshal Haig, was a frequent caller, and never departed without leaving a stimulating impression of his placid, hopeful and undaunted personality, nor without a generous recognition of the work which the Corps was doing.
General Birdwood, also, the former Corps Commander, who now commanded the Fifth Army, paid several visits to the Corps, travelling long distances in order to speak a few encouraging words to the Commanders and troops with whom he had formerly been so long and so closely associated. He, too, was always a most welcome visitor. Although since the previous May he had ceased to control the fighting activities of the Corps, this did not lessen the intense pride which he took in its daily successes.
Many of our civilian visitors thirsted for the noise and tumult of battle, and were most keen to get under fire, even if only of long-range artillery fire. This was a constant source of anxiety to me, for it was an unwritten law that the responsibility of their safe sojourn in the Corps area rested with me. More often than not they had to be dissuaded from visiting the forward zone, and induced to spend their available time in inspecting some of our show spots in the rearward areas, such as the Calibration ranges, or the Corps central telegraph station, or the Tank park, or even the Prisoner of War Cages, and the numerous depots of captured guns and war trophies.
The Corps prisoners' cage was always, throughout the period of our active fighting, a scene both of great interest and much activity. Although all prisoners of war had to be evacuated to the rear usually within about twenty-four hours of their admission, and every day a batch marched out under escort, yet the Corps cage between July and October was never empty.
When early in July the stream of prisoners began to flow in, and thereafter grew steadily stronger, my Intelligence Service, headed by Major S. A. Hunn, rose thoroughly to the occasion. Among our troops sufficient numbers of all ranks proficient in the German language were speedily found. After a little training they learned to deal expeditiously with the lengthy searchings and interrogations which followed the arrival of all new-comers.
Documents of every description found upon prisoners excepting their pay-books, were seized and examined. The German soldier is an inveterate sender and recipient of picture postcards. It was surprising how much information of an invaluable character could be gleaned from a postcard. A date, a place name, the number of a Unit or Regiment, the name of a Commander, reference to a train journey or a fight, are often sufficient, when read by an expert in relation to the context, to furnish definite information of the whereabouts of a Division, or of the fact that it has been or is about to be disbanded, or of its intended movement to some other part of the front, or of the losses which it has suffered.
All these scraps of information, when compared with similar items gathered on other fronts, soon enabled the whole story of all movement that was going on behind the enemy's lines to be deduced from day to day with wonderful completeness.
So, also, maps, sketches, copies of orders, or of battle instructions, and the contents of note-books and of personal diaries always repaid the closest scrutiny. Such study produced results which, even if not of immediate value to me, were nevertheless passed on to the Army, and by them broadly promulgated, in daily summaries, for the benefit of all our other Corps.
The oral interrogation of the prisoners, particularly of officers, often produced results of first-class importance. Information as to dispositions, intentions, new tactical methods or new weapons frequently emerged from these inquiries. It was rare that prisoners refused to talk, and rarer still for them to attempt to mislead with false information. If they did attempt it, the interrogating officer was usually sufficiently well-informed upon the subject of inquiry to be able to detect the inconsistency.
As the prisoners were invariably examined separately, it was never difficult to discriminate between the true, upon which the majority of them were in agreement, and the false, upon which the minority never agreed.
Should the prisoner prove uncommunicative or deceitful, then if he were of sufficient education to make it worth while, the Intelligence Officer had yet another method, besides direct questioning, at his disposal.
For a certain number of our own men, who could speak German fluently, and who had been carefully tutored in their rôle, were provided with enemy uniforms, and allowed to grow a three-days' beard, so as to impersonate prisoners of war. These men, so equipped, were called "pigeons." A pigeon would be ostentatiously brought under escort into the prisoners' cage, and would sojourn for a day or more in a compartment of it among the specially selected genuine prisoners. He would indicate by a secret sign the time when he should himself be led to the Intelligence Office for interrogation. It was seldom that he came away empty-handed.
The demeanour of our captives, on reaching the cages, varied widely, according to the stress which they had undergone. Some wore an air of abject misery, and were thoroughly cowed and subservient. Others were defiant, sulky and even arrogant.
Our treatment of them was firm, but humane. Physically, they had nothing to complain of; they were fed and quartered on the same standard as our own men. But they were given to understand from the very outset that we would stand no nonsense, and that they must do exactly what they were told. Few of them ever gave us any real trouble.
The subsequent employment of prisoners of war did not come under my jurisdiction, and it was seldom that any prisoner working parties were available to me. My Corps area rarely extended sufficiently far back from the front line to carry it beyond the zone in which, by agreement between the belligerents, the employment of prisoners of war was forbidden.
Australian soldiers are nothing if not sportsmen, and no case ever came under my notice of brutality or inhumanity to prisoners. Upon the contrary, when once a man's surrender had been accepted, and he had been fully disarmed, he was treated with marked kindness. The front line troops were always ready to share their water and rations with their prisoners, and cigarettes were distributed with a liberal hand.
On the other hand, the souvenir-hunting instinct of the Australian led him to help himself freely to such mementos as our orders had not forbidden him to touch. Prisoners rarely got as far as the Corps cage with a full outfit of regimental buttons, cockades, shoulder-straps, or other accoutrements. Personal trinkets, pay-books, money and other individual belongings were, however, invariably respected; unless, as often happened, the prisoners themselves were anxious to trade them away to their captors, or escorts, for tobacco, chocolates, or other luxuries.
Before I leave the subject of prisoners I should mention my impression of the German officers, particularly of those who were more senior in rank. Whenever a Regimental or Battalion Commander was captured, and time permitted, he was brought before me for a further interrogation. It was an experience which was almost universal that such officers were willing to give me little information which might injure their cause; on the other hand, they exhibited an altogether exaggerated air of wounded pride at their capture, and at the defeat of the troops whom they had commanded.
It was that feeling of professional pique which dominated their whole demeanour. They were always volubly full of excuses, the weather, the fog, the poor moral of their own men, the unexpectedness of our attack, the Tanks, errors in their maps—anything at all but a frank admission of their own military inferiority.
There were two amusing exceptions to this experience. The day after the fighting for Péronne, when a large batch of the prisoners then taken was being got ready to march out of the Corps cage, officers in one enclosure, other ranks in another, the senior German officer, a Regimental Commander, formally requested permission to address some eighty other officers present in the cage. This request was granted.
He told them that they had fought a good fight, that their capture was not to their discredit, and that he would report favourably upon them to his superiors at the first opportunity. He then went on to say that on his own and on their behalf he desired to tender to the Australians an expression of his admiration for their prowess, and to make a frank acknowledgment to them that he fully recognized that on this occasion his garrison had been outclassed, out-manœuvred, and out-fought. The whole assembly expressed their acquiescence in these observations by collectively bowing gravely to the small group of my Intelligence Officers who were amused spectators of the scene.
On another occasion—it was just after the battle of September 18th—I was asking a German Battalion Commander whether he could explain why it was that his men had that day surrendered in such large numbers without much show of resistance. "Well, you see," said he, with a twinkle in his eye, "they are dreadfully afraid of the Australians. So they are of the Tanks. But when they saw both of them coming at them together, they thought it was high time to throw up their hands."
But this story is slightly anticipatory. The short breathing-space which had been afforded by our more leisurely advance towards the Hindenburg system was over. By September 12th I was once again immersed in all the perplexities of shaping means to ends. I had to decide, in collaboration with the Army Staff and the Corps on my flanks, first, the extent of the resources which would be required, and second, the successive stages which would offer promise of success in overthrowing the last great defensive system of all those which the enemy had created upon the tortured soil of France.
CHAPTER XIII
HARGICOURT
The great Hindenburg system, by which name it has come to be known to English readers, or the "Siegfried Line," as it is called by the Germans, was brought into existence during the winter of 1916 and early spring of 1917 in order to fulfil a very definite strategic purpose. This was to put into effect, on a stupendous scale, a very elementary principle of minor tactics, namely, that field works are constructed for the purpose of reducing the number of men required to defend a given front or locality.
In themselves, field fortifications have, of course, no offensive value whatever, but their use permits a reduced number of men to defend one place, in order that a greater number of men may be available to attack another place.
The German High Command proceeded to make use of this principle on a scale previously unknown in history. The whole of the Western front, in Belgium and France, was to be held defensively throughout 1917. The military resources required to defend that front were to be reduced to a minimum, by the provision of a line of defences protected by powerful field works, believed to be impregnable. This would liberate the greatest possible resources for the Eastern front, where an end could be made of the Russians and Roumanians there. As soon as these were disposed of, those troops, guns and aeroplanes could again be transferred to the West, in order similarly to dispose of the remainder of our Alliance.
This great strategic plan was carried out in its entirety until the middle of 1918. It was the great Hindenburg line which had been the kernel of the whole conception, and, until the days which we are now approaching, it had remained, practically over its whole length, an impregnable barrier against the assaults of the French and British.
It is to be remembered that the very basis which justified the expenditure of such enormous labour on the creation of these defences was the saving in man-power. It is an accepted principle of tactics that in any given battle the advantage always rests heavily on the side of the defence. Where numbers, resources and moral are equal, no attack can hope to succeed.
If, in the teachings before the war, it was correct to say that a Commander should hesitate to attack unless he had a preponderance of men and guns of at least two to one, such a dictum assuredly did not take into account field defences of the permanent and elaborate character of the Hindenburg Line. I should hardly venture to fix a ratio of relative strength appropriate in such circumstances.
But this much is clear. The Germans had once already relied successfully upon the impregnability of this great work. They had every justification for believing that it would once again serve them to keep us at bay for just a few weeks longer. Winter was very near, and the Entente peoples might not have been able to hold together to face another year of war.
We, on our part also, had as much justification for the resolve that every sacrifice must be made to overthrow these defences before the end of 1918, and for believing that it would require a great, concerted and intense effort to succeed in this.
It is quite necessary, for a due appreciation of the magnitude of the effort which was actually made, and of the wonderful success with which it was rewarded, that the nature of the defences of the Hindenburg Line should be clearly understood. This can best be done, I think, by making an endeavour to realize the sense of security which the possession of such a line of defence must have afforded to the enemy. We are here interested only in that portion of the line which extends from St. Quentin northwards towards Cambrai.
Between these two cities the country is higher than that adjoining it on the north and the south. It forms, therefore, a watershed, dividing the basin of the Somme from that of the Scheldt. Early in the nineteenth century, Napoleon realized the ambitious project of connecting these two river systems by a great Canal scheme, cutting right through this high country from south to north.
The canal is called, in its southern reaches, Canal de St. Quentin. Before Cambrai is reached it merges into the Canal de l'Escaut. Throughout the whole of that portion which concerns us, it runs in a deep cutting, reaching, for great stretches, a depth of 50 to 60 feet. In certain places where the ground rises still higher, the canal passes through in great tunnels. The southernmost, or Le Tronquoy Tunnel, near St. Quentin, is but short; the northern boasts of the imposing length of 6,000 yards, and extends from Bellicourt,[19] at its southern portal, to Le Catelet at its northern one. From that point northwards the canal flows in "open cut" which gradually becomes shallower as Cambrai is approached.
The canal excavation—except where the tunnels occur—itself affords an excellent military obstacle, the passage of which could be stoutly contested by resolute troops well dug in on its eastern banks, for the descent and ascent of the slopes could be obstructed by wire entanglements, and swept with fire. The water alone, which is too deep to be waded, would seriously impede infantry, while the passage of tanks, guns and vehicles would be impossible once the few high level bridges over the canal had been destroyed.
Such an obstacle would not, however, of itself fulfil the requirements of modern war, with its searching and destructive Artillery fire. It was to be regarded more as the foundation upon which a complete system of defences could be built, and as a last line of resistance à outrance.
The canal had been, naturally, located by its engineers, in the lowest ground available, so that its course closely follows the lines of the minor valleys and depressions of the ground. On both sides, therefore, the canal is flanked by somewhat higher ground, from which its immediate banks can be overlooked. On the western side particularly, there is a regular line of such higher plateaux on which the villages of Villeret, Hargicourt and Ronssoy once stood.
It was clearly desirable both to deprive a besieger of such vantage ground, and also to provide the canal defences with a stout outpost defence. For these reasons, the Germans had constructed an elaborate system of trenches on a line generally parallel to and on the average a full mile west of the canal. These trenches had been perfected with dug-outs, concrete machine gun and mortar emplacements, and underground shelters. They were protected by belt after belt of barbed wire entanglements, in a fashion which no one understood better, or achieved more thoroughly, than the Germans.
But much more remained. Deep communication trenches led back to the canal banks, in the sides of which tier upon tier of comfortable living quarters for the troops had been tunnelled out. Here support and reserve troops could live in safety and defy our heaviest bombardments. They could be secretly hurried to the front trenches whenever danger threatened.
There was, indeed, a perfect tangle of underground shelters and passages. Roomy dug-outs were provided with tunnelled ways which led to cunningly hidden machine-gun posts, and the best of care was taken to provide numerous exits, so that the occupants should not be imprisoned by the blocking of one or other of them by our bombardment. But it was the barbed wire which formed the groundwork of the defence. It was everywhere, and ran in all directions, cleverly disposed so as to herd the attackers into the very jaws of the machine guns.
The stretch of 6,000 yards of the canal which had been tunnelled was, however, both a hindrance and a benefit to the perfection of the scheme. On the one hand, the advantage of the open cut, as a last obstacle, was lost. Its place had to be taken by a second complete system of trench and wire defences, roughly following the line of the tunnel, but of course far above the latter. On the other hand, the tunnel itself afforded secure living accommodation for a substantial garrison.
The Germans had collected large numbers of canal barges, and had towed them into the interior of the tunnel, mooring them end to end. They served as living quarters and as depots for stores and munitions. It was no great business to provide electric lighting for the tunnel. Indeed, the leads for this purpose had been in existence before the war. Here, again, underground shafts and ways were cut to enable the troops rapidly to man the trenches and machine guns, and as rapidly to seek a safe asylum from the heaviest shell fire.
The whole scheme produced, in fact, a veritable fortress—not one, in the popular acceptation of the term, consisting of massive walls and battlements, which, as was proved in the early days of the war at Liége and Namur, can speedily be blown to pieces by modern heavy artillery—but one defying destruction by any powers of gunnery, and presenting the most formidable difficulties to the bravest of Infantry.
Even this was not all. On the east side of the St. Quentin Canal and parallel to it were built still two further trench lines, both fully protected by wire entanglements, and capable of determined defence. The first of these is the Le Catelet line, about one mile distant from the canal. It skirts and embraces the villages of Nauroy and Le Catelet, while two miles still further east is the Beaurevoir line, the last or most easterly of all the prepared defences which the Germans had in France.
Neither of these latter trench systems was nearly so formidably prepared as the main systems previously described, but together with them they go to make up the whole Hindenburg defensive system. In this region that system runs generally due north and south, with many minor convolutions in its line. It is altogether some 4½ miles across from west to east.
As its overthrow could not be attempted in a single operation, it is necessary for clearness of description to give definite names to each of the successive lines of trenches which go to form the whole defence system. Taking them in the order in which we attacked them, from west to east, they will be referred to as:
The Hindenburg Outpost line (known also in this part of the field as the Hargicourt line).
The Hindenburg main line (i.e., the Canal and Tunnel line).
The Le Catelet line.
The Beaurevoir line.
Australian Artillery—going into action at Cressaire Wood.
Battle of August 8th, 1918—German prisoners being brought out of the battle under the fire of their own artillery.
During the winter of 1917-1918 the British Fifth Army and the Germans had faced each other in this region for many months. On our side, also, a system of field defences had been developed. They fell far short, indeed, of the completeness and ingenuity of the German works, because the latter had been constructed at leisure, long before, while ours had been built under the very fire of the German guns.
For months the opposing Artilleries had pounded the country to pieces, effaced every sign of civilization, and churned up the ground in all directions over a belt some three miles wide. Heaps of broken bricks marked the sites of once prosperous villages. Broken telegraph poles, charred tree trunks, twisted rails, a chaos of mangled machinery, were the only remains of what had once been gardens, orchards, railways and factories. The whole territory presented the aspect of a rolling, tumbled desert from which life itself had been banished.
This was the region whose western verge the vanguard of the Australian advance approached on September 11th, on a frontage of about 8,000 yards, the northern extremity directed on Bellicourt, the southern on Bellenglise. That is to say, if our further advance had but continued unimpeded in the same due easterly direction, it would have brought us square upon the open excavation of the canal, and just clear and to the south of the Bellicourt—Le Catelet tunnel. Some significance attached to this circumstance, as will later appear.
Now, some little time before, an event of peculiar interest had occurred. This was the capture, on another front, of a very ordinary-looking transport vehicle loaded high with miscellaneous baggage. Little escaped the inquisitive eyes of the British Intelligence Service, which speedily discovered that among this baggage there safely reposed a large collection of maps and documents. On examination these proved to be nothing less than the complete Defence Scheme of the whole "Siegfried" system, in that very sector which now lay before the Australian Corps.
These papers were carefully overhauled and arranged. There were dozens of accurately drawn detailed maps, and minute descriptions of every tactical feature of the defences. The position of every gun emplacement was given; every searchlight, machine-gun pit, observation post, telephone exchange, command station and mortar emplacement was clearly marked; the topographical and tactical features of the ground were discussed in minute detail, and plans for the action of every individual unit of the garrisons were fully displayed.
Naturally, an army of translators and copying clerks was set to work upon this precious find, and my Intelligence Service was kept busy for many days in making for me digests of those items likely to prove of special interest. It had, of course, to be remembered that the Defence Scheme had been brought into operation for the campaign of 1917, and it remained to be seen to what extent it might by now have become obsolete.
It was hardly to be expected that the enemy would adhere to it in its entirety, especially if he were aware, as I was bound to assume that he was, that all this information had fallen into our hands. But the Scheme contained a full exposition of many important topographical facts which it was in any case beyond his power to alter, and which it was of priceless value for me to know.
Although I had to devote hour upon hour to a concentrated study of these papers, it proved to be in greater part labour in vain so far as the Australian Corps was concerned, because it ultimately came about that although I did carry out the attack upon the Hindenburg outpost line in my present sector, the attack upon the Hindenburg main line, which I was, later, called upon to make, took place in the next adjoining sector to the north, i.e., the Bellicourt tunnel sector, to which these captured documents only incidentally referred. Nevertheless, the Ninth Corps, under Braithwaite, ultimately got the full benefit of these discoveries.
The production of these documents on September 10th formed the starting point of the discussions which were now initiated in the Fourth Army upon the question of the series of operations necessary to overthrow the Hindenburg defences. General Rawlinson, on September 13th, asked his three Corps Commanders (Butler, now restored to health and back at duty, Braithwaite and myself) to meet him at my newly-installed hutted camp at Assevillers. There, quite informally, over a cup of afternoon tea, the great series of operations took birth which so directly helped to finish the war.
It was decided that the operation must necessarily be divided into two main phases—separated in point of time by an interval of several days for further preparation. All of us recognized the impossibility of overrunning, in a single day, so deep and formidable a system of defences, in such tortured country, and in weather which was already becoming unsettled.
The first phase was to be an attempt to capture the Hindenburg outpost line, along the whole Army front. The French and the Third British Armies were to be asked to make a synchronized attack on the same objective. The three Corps of the Fourth Army were to attack upon the frontages and in the sectors on which they then stood. The date was left undecided, but all were to be ready at three days' notice.
One important consideration was the meagre supply of Tanks available. The operations of August had been costly, not to say extravagant, in Tanks, and General Elles' repair workshops, manned largely by very competent Chinese coolie mechanics, had been working night and day ever since to repair the minor damages, and new Tanks were steadily arriving from England to replace those damaged beyond repair. But no large contingent of Tanks was to be expected until towards the end of the month. The upshot was that I was to be content with only eight Tanks for use in the contemplated operation.
Late the same afternoon I communicated to Generals Maclagan and Glasgow an outline of the probable rôle of their respective Divisions in the very near future.
In the meantime, the front-line troops had not been idle. My orders were that the First and Fourth Divisions were to carry the line forward as far as possible towards the Hindenburg outpost line, without committing the Corps to an organized attack. They were to operate by vigorous patrol action against enemy points of resistance, for the enemy had evidently no intention of quietly giving up the ground which lay between us and the Hindenburg outpost line. On the contrary, he had posted strong rearguards on every point of tactical value, and did his best to keep us as long as possible at arm's length, and beyond striking distance of his first great line of defence.
These orders were entirely to the taste of the two Divisions now in the line. The First Division had served its apprenticeship to that very kind of fighting in the Merris area in the previous spring, and the Fourth Division did not mean to be a second best. Each Division stood on a one-Brigade front, being ordered to keep its other two Brigades well out of harm's way and resting, for any great effort that might be required.
The next few days witnessed some daring exploits on the part of the 13th Brigade of the Fourth Division and the 2nd Brigade of the First Division in the capture of tactical points, and in the bloody repulse of all attempts by the enemy to recapture them. In this way our line was carried up to and a little beyond what had been the old British reserve line of trenches of March, 1918, which lay within 5,000 yards of the final objective of the first phase of the contemplated operations.
On September 16th I called together the whole of the Commanders who were to participate in the next great battle, Maclagan (Fourth Division), Glasgow (First Division), Courage (Tanks), Chamier (Air Force), Fraser (Heavy Artillery), and the four Generals of my own Staff. The conference took place in a Y.M.C.A. marquee erected near Maclagan's Headquarters, and I was able to announce that the date had been fixed for September 18th.
The contemplated battle presented only a few novel features. The methods of the Corps were becoming stereotyped, and by this time we all began to understand each other so well that most of what I had to say could almost be taken for granted. Each Commander was ready to anticipate the action that would be required of him, almost as soon as I had unfolded the general plan.
The shortage of Tanks was a source of much anxiety to me. I felt that it would mean a heavier risk to the Infantry, and the contemplation of losses among our splendid men, which might be lessened by the more liberal use of mechanical aids, always sorely troubled me. I endeavoured to meet the situation by adopting two unusual expedients.
The first was to double the machine-gun resources of the two battle Divisions. This was effected by bringing up the complete machine-gun battalions of the Third and Fifth Divisions, and adding them to those of the line Divisions. This gave me a total of 256 Vickers Machine Guns on a frontage now reduced to 7,000 yards. It enabled me to deliver so dense a machine-gun barrage, advancing 300 yards ahead of the infantry, that to quote the words of a German Battalion Commander who was captured on September 18th: "The small-arms fire was absolutely too terrible for words. There was nothing to be done but to crouch down in our trenches and wait for you to come and take us."
The other expedient was amusing, although no less effective. This was to make up for the shortage of real Tanks by fabricating a number of dummy ones. As soon as the word went round Engineers and Pioneers vied with each other in rapid "Tank" manufacture. Dumps and stores were clandestinely robbed of hessian, paint, wire nails, and battens, and some weird monstrosities were produced. The best and most plausible of them were selected, and actually used on the day of the battle. Four men dragged out each dummy, before dawn, into a position from which it was bound to be seen by the enemy and there abandoned it. There is little doubt that this trick contributed its share to the day's astonishing success.
Once again, also, I put into practice the principle of an Artillery barrage plan reduced to the utmost simplicity. This, as already described, consisted in having the line, on which were to fall the shells from the whole of the barrage guns employed, perfectly straight across the whole front, so as to avoid all complexities in fire direction.
The first line on which the barrage fell was called the Artillery "Start Line," and from such a line the barrage advanced, by regular leaps or "lifts" of 100 yards at a time, in perfectly parallel lines, until the final objective was reached. Now, experience had shown that such a start line for the Artillery should be at least 200 yards in advance of the line on which the Infantry were to form up ready for the assault. A liberal margin of space had to be allowed, in order to minimize the risks to our own Infantry.
The Artillery "Start Line" was defined on our fighting maps. The guns were laid upon it by methods which depended upon accurate surveys, on the ground, of the exact position of every gun. When that had been determined, the map and compass helped to decide the range and alignment upon which the gun should open fire.
On the map, also, was drawn another line 200 yards short of, or on our side of the Artillery "Start Line," and this was called the Infantry "Start Line." It then became necessary to determine, upon the actual ground, the position of this Infantry Start Line, and to mark it in such a way that the Infantry would be enabled to take up their correct positions. This would ensure that the Infantry would know that the fall of our opening barrage would be 200 yards in advance of the line so marked.
This delicate work of marking out of the Infantry Start Line on the ground was invariably entrusted to the Engineers attached to the Brigades co-operating in the attack. The marking was done by laying out and pegging down broad tapes of white linen, which could be recognized in the dim light of early dawn. The whole work, had, of course, to be done unobserved by the enemy, and it was always a dangerous task.
Only the fact that we were in possession of reliable large scale maps, recording every feature of the ground, made it possible for the Engineers, resourceful as they were, to do this delicate work with reasonable accuracy. The battered condition of the country was always a difficulty; for it was never easy to recognize, on the ground, reference points, such as a road intersection, or the corner of a field, or a crucifix or similar land mark, which might aid the surveyors in getting their bearings.
Map G
The Infantry Start Line had, naturally, to be located so that the ground upon which the tapes were to be pegged down was ground which was already within our possession, or accessible to us without coming dangerously near the enemy. It was a necessary consequence that portions of our always irregular front line of posts or trenches would lie beyond or on the enemy's side of the tape line.
It was always a rule of our practice, therefore, that any Infantry posted in advance of the taped line should be withdrawn, behind the tapes, an hour before the time of Zero. It was also customary to order that all assaulting troops should be spread, in their appropriate dispositions, along the tape line, also one hour before Zero.
The result of these arrangements was that for the last hour before the actual opening of the battle, all Infantry intended to take part in the assault was deployed along the tapes in a perfectly straight line, all along the battle front, while no troops previously in occupation of posts or trenches in advance of the tapes were left out in front, exposed to the risk of either being hit by our own Artillery, or mistaken, in the half light of dawn, for enemies by our own Infantry.
Complex and difficult as these arrangements may appear from this description, they worked out in actual practice with the utmost smoothness. The resulting simplification of the Artillery plans, in this as in similar previous battles, more than justified their adoption.
A liberal use was also made of direction boards, which marked the routes by which each separate body of assaulting Infantry should, during the last night, march from its place of assembly to the taped line or "jumping off" line, and also to mark the position which it was to take up upon that line. Each board had painted upon it the name of the unit to which it referred. Such preparatory measures, troublesome as they were, greatly reduced the risk of any confusion or mistake, and lessened the fatigue of the assaulting troops.
The moon would set, on the morning of the battle, at 3.37 a.m., and the sun would rise at 6.27 a.m. Zero hour, for the opening of the attack, was therefore fixed for twenty minutes past five.
Operations began inauspiciously. A soaking rain set in some two hours before, and made movement over the broken, clayey surface anything but pleasant. Although the troops were soon drenched to the skin, this did not in any way damp their spirits. It probably added much to the misery of the enemy, who could hardly fail to realize that, on any morning, a fresh attack might break upon him.
Modern war is in many ways unlike the wars of previous days, but in nothing so much as in the employment of what I have more than once referred to as "set-piece" operations. The term is one which should convey its own meaning. It is the direct result of the great extension, which this war has introduced, of mechanical warfare. It is a "set-piece" because the stage is elaborately set, parts are written for all the performers, and carefully rehearsed by many of them. The whole performance is controlled by a time-table, and, so long as all goes according to plan, there is no likelihood of unexpected happenings, or of interesting developments.
The Artillery barrage advances from line to line, in regular leaps, at regulated intervals of time, determined beforehand, and incapable of alteration once the battle has begun. Should the rate prove too slow and the Infantry could have advanced more quickly, it cannot be helped, and no great harm is done. On the other hand, if there be any risk of the barrage rate being too fast, one or two halts of ten or fifteen minutes are often introduced into the time-table to allow the infantry line, or any part of it which may be hung up for any reason, to catch up.
Following the barrage, comes line upon line of infantry in skirmishing order, together with the line of Tanks when such are used. The foremost lines advance to capture and hold the ground, the lines in rear to "mop up" and deal with the enemy either showing fight or hiding underground, the rearmost lines collect prisoners or our own wounded, or carry supplies, tools and ammunition.
In a well-planned battle of this nature, fully organized, powerfully covered by Artillery and Machine Gun barrages, given a resolute Infantry and that the enemy's guns are kept successfully silenced by our own counter-battery Artillery, nothing happens, nothing can happen, except the regular progress of the advance according to the plan arranged. The whole battle sweeps relentlessly and methodically across the ground until it reaches the line laid down as the final objective.
Such a set-piece battle lasts usually, from first to last, for 80 to 100 minutes; seldom for more. When the Artillery programme is ended the battle is either completely won, or to all intents and purposes completely lost. If the barrage for any reason gets away from our Infantry, and they are relegated to hand to hand fighting in order to complete their advance, the battle immediately assumes a totally different character, and is no longer a set-piece affair.
It will be obvious, therefore, that the more nearly such a battle proceeds according to plan, the more free it is from any incidents awakening any human interest. Only the externals and only the large aspects of such battles can be successfully recorded. It is for this reason that no stirring accounts exist of the more intimate details of such great set-pieces as Messines, Vimy, Hamel and many others. They will never be written, for there is no material upon which to base them. The story of what did take place on the day of battle would be a mere paraphrase of the battle orders prescribing all that was to take place.
On the other hand battles such as the second phase of August 8th, the battle for Mont St. Quentin, and the later battles of Bony and Beaurevoir were not set-piece operations. Therefore the developments from hour to hour, and even from moment to moment, are full of intense human interest, and replete with tales of individual courage and initiative. Some day, when all the material has been gathered, an abler pen than mine will write their story.
If the reader will bear in mind all these considerations, with special reference to the battle of Hargicourt on September 18th he will realize that, in describing the dispositions, the objectives, the time-table and the preparations for the battle, I have told practically all that there is to tell of the course it took, except only as regards the results actually achieved, in ground won and prisoners taken.
It has been difficult, nevertheless, to refrain from dwelling in detail upon the performances and experiences in battle of the individual fighting men. Any attempt to do so would, however, prove hopelessly inadequate. The numbers engaged were always so large, their activities so varied, the conditions of each battle so different in detail, that to do adequate justice and avoid unfair discrimination would make impossible demands upon the space available to me.
Popular interest naturally centres upon the Infantry, not only because they are the most numerous, but also because they are invariably in the forefront of the battle and often in immediate contact with the enemy. Without the slightest disparagement to the important rôle of the Infantryman and to the valour which its performance demands, it must never be forgotten that the work of the Artillery, Engineers, Pioneers, Machine Gunners, Trench Mortars, Air Service and Tanks is in every way equally important and essential to the success of any battle operation. Yet it is equally true that no battle can be won without the Infantry.
In a deliberately prepared battle it is not too much to say that the rôle of the Infantry is not, as a rule, the paramount one, provided that all goes well and that there is no breakdown in any part of the battle plan. That does not, however, imply that the Infantry task makes no high demand upon courage and resolution. On the contrary, these are the essentials upon which the success of the Infantry rôle and therefore of the whole battle depends.
The primary duty of the Infantry, in an assault covered by an Artillery barrage, is to follow up the barrage closely. The barrage is nothing more nor less than a steady shower of shells, bursting over the very heads of the leading lines of Infantry, and striking the ground some 80 to 120 yards in front of them. This shower is usually so dense that three to four shells per minute fall on every twenty yards of frontage. It is so intense a fire that no enemy, however courageous, could remain exposed to it. It falls on one line for three or four minutes, while the Infantry lie down flat. Suddenly, the barrage "lifts" or advances 100 yards. At a signal from the platoon or company commander the whole line rises and rushes at top speed to catch up to the barrage, again to throw itself flat upon the ground.
So long as no enemy are encountered, these successive rushes may go on without check for hundreds of yards. If during the course of any rush, trenches or strong points are met with and they contain enemy who do not immediately surrender, prompt use must be made of rifle and bayonet. But it is the primary business of the leading line of Infantry to push on and not to delay by engaging in close combat. The second and third lines of Infantry are there to "mop up," that is, to dispose, by destruction or capture, of any enemy overrun or ignored by the leading line. Where Tanks co-operate that is also their special business, and when it has been attended to they go forward at top speed to rejoin the leading line.
In such a methodical way the advance continues until the final objective is reached. This event can be recognized by the Infantry in any of three ways, firstly by reference to the clock time; for the arrival of the barrage at any line on the map or ground occurs in pursuance of a definite time-table; secondly by the topographical features, and thirdly by the expedient of maintaining the barrage stationary at the final objective for fifteen to thirty minutes. In some battles, I also adopted the device of firing from every gun in the barrage, three rounds of smoke shell in rapid succession, as a signal to the Commanders of the leading line of Infantry to call the final halt, to select a good line for trenches, and to dig-in rapidly, a process technically called "consolidation."
It would be too much to hope that in an attack covering a front of four or five miles, every part of the line should be able to advance without any check whatever up to the final halting place. But the expectation always is that by far the greater part of the whole line will be able to do so. If, here and there along the front, platoons or even whole companies were to be held up or delayed by special difficulties or obstacles such as thickets, or copses strongly manned by the enemy, or by belts of wire, or village ruins, such breaks in the general line of advance would matter but little to the success of the operations as a whole. The gaps discovered in the leading line of Infantry, when it had come to a halt at the final objective, would be speedily filled by supporting troops from both flanks of the gap, and thereby the enemy holding out further back, would be completely enveloped. His surrender would follow as soon as he realized his position, and that he had been cut off from any contact with his friends in his rear.
Such is the normal course of the Infantry action in a pitched battle. It makes great demands upon the iron resolution of the Infantryman to push on vigorously against all obstacles, and to put forth his utmost physical powers to keep up with the barrage, especially when the ground is wet and sticky, or when uncut wire has to be crawled through. All this he must do, utterly regardless of the enemy fire which may be directed against him, whether from Artillery or machine guns. His best hope of immunity is always to make his rush rapidly and determinedly, and to get to ground immediately that he reaches the halting place, close up to the barrage, when signalled by his officer.
Very different from such a stereotyped procedure is the action of the Infantry in any operation or any part of an operation which partakes of the character of open warfare. The main tactical purpose is still, as before, to advance to the seizure of an appointed objective, but there is no barrage, no time-table, no fixity of route, no prescribed formation or procedure. Everything must be left to the judgment, initiative and enterprise of the leader on the spot.
The tactical unit of Infantry is the platoon. The action of a whole battalion is compounded merely of the separate actions of its sixteen platoons, each performing the separate rôle, in a general plan, that may be laid down by the Battalion Commanders, some to advance and fight, some to act in support, some to lie in reserve, some to engage in a flank attack, others to fetch and carry food, water and munitions.
The platoon is commanded by a Lieutenant and comprises four sections, each under a Sergeant or Corporal. There are two sections of riflemen, a Lewis gun section and a section of rifle grenadiers. Each section may consist of from five to eight men. Let it be supposed that it is the business of the platoon to capture a small farmhouse which the enemy has fortified and in which he is holding out. Always supposing that the enemy garrison is not of a strength requiring more than one platoon for its capture the normal action of the attacking platoon would be somewhat as follows. The Lewis gun section would, from a concealed position, on one flank, keep the place under steady fire. The rifle grenadiers from the same or another flank would fire smoke grenades to make a smoke screen. One section of riflemen would endeavour to sneak up depressions and ditches or along hedges, so as to get well behind the farm and threaten it by fire from the rear. The other section of riflemen would choose some direct line of attack, over ground which offered concealment to them until they were close enough to take the objective with a rush.
Such in very bare outline is merely an imaginary example, but it is sufficient to show the amount of skill, resource and energy required on the part not only of the leader, but also of every man in the platoon. The secret of success of the Australian open fighting lay in the extraordinary vigour, judgment and team-work which characterized the many hundreds of little platoon battles which were fought on just such lines as I have tried to suggest in this example.
It will be readily seen that no comprehensive description is possible which would present an adequate picture of the widely varying activities of the Australian Infantryman in this campaign. There is only one source from which reliable narratives of individual fighting can be gathered, and that source is so voluminous that space forbids any but a meagre attempt to supply extracts from it. I refer to the recommendations made by Commanders for honours and rewards for individual acts of gallantry. A very small selection of these has been made and is presented in an appendix to this book.[20]
But to return to my narrative of September 18th. On that day each Division attacked on a frontage of two Brigades. No serious opposition was encountered except at La Verguier, which was not far from our start line. Nevertheless, the whole of the "red" line, which was the objective of the "set-piece" phase of the day's battle, was in our possession, throughout the whole length of the Corps front, well before 10 o'clock.
This gave us complete possession of the old British front line of March, 1918; but the Hindenburg outpost line yet lay before us, still distant another 1,500 to 2,000 yards. This latter line was to be the ultimate or exploitation objective of the day's operations, and I could hardly have dared to hope that a trench system of such considerable strength, which had defied the Fifth Army for so long, would fall into our hands so easily as it did.
Glasgow's Division pushed on without pause, and before nightfall had overwhelmed the garrison of the Hindenburg outpost line along its front. Maclagan's Division also fought its way forward to within 500 yards of that line. But the troops were by then very exhausted; all movement was in full view of the enemy; and the ground was very difficult. After a consultation with Maclagan I decided to rest the troops, and to make an attempt to reach the final objective (blue line) that same night.
Advantage was taken of this pause to advance the Artillery, so that the enemy's defences could be thoroughly bombarded before the final assault. At 11 o'clock the same night, the Fourth Division again attacked, and after severe fighting also captured the whole of the objective trench system.
It was a great victory. The Hindenburg outpost line had been vanquished. From it we could now look down upon the St. Quentin Canal, and sweep with fire the whole of the sloping ground which lay between us and the Canal, denying the use of that ground to the enemy, and making it impossible for him to withdraw the guns and stores which littered the area.
The overwhelming nature of the success can best be realized by the following almost incredible analysis of the material results of the day's fighting. The First Division attacked with a total strength of 2,854 Infantry. They suffered only 490 casualties (killed and wounded). They captured 1,700 prisoners, apart from the large numbers who were killed, and the wounded enemy who made good their escape.
The Fourth Division had a total assaulting strength of 3,048 of all ranks, of whom 532 became casualties. Their captures of live prisoners amounted to 2,543.
In addition, the Corps gathered in upwards of 80 guns, which had been overrun, and had to be abandoned by the enemy.
There is no record in this war of any previous success on such a scale, won with so little loss.
The Corps on either flank of me had successes of varying quality. The Ninth Corps on the south had reached the red line, but the exploitation phase of the operation was not pressed until a later day. The Third Corps, on my left, however, made indifferent progress. Their line still bent back sharply from my left flank, and none of the enemy's outpost system had been gained. This portion of the Army front was that which lay square opposite the Bellicourt tunnel, and the fact that in this part of the field the Fourth Army had not yet mastered the Hindenburg outpost system was to be fraught with very serious difficulties for me, not many days later.
The general plan propounded by General Rawlinson on September 13th had been realized in part, although not in its entirety. The successes gained on September 18th were nevertheless sufficiently important and decisive to justify immediate preparations for working out the plan for a great, combined and final effort to sweep the enemy out of the remainder of the last lines of defence which he had established in France.
The First and Fourth Australian Divisions had, however, as it turned out, fought their last fight in the war. Their long and brilliant fighting career, which had been opened three and a half years before, the one on the cliffs of Gallipoli, and the other in the desert of Egypt, thus ended in a blaze of glory. Although a number of the officers and non-commissioned officers of both these Divisions were called upon, very shortly after, to render one more valuable service to the Australian Corps, the Divisions themselves were destined, because of the termination of hostilities, not again to make their appearance on any battle front. Their labours ended, the troops were taken by motor bus and railway to a coastal district lying to the south-west of Amiens, there to rest and recuperate in the contemplation of a noble past devoted to the service of the Empire.